From the Earth to the Moon: 13: Stones Hill

Chapter XIII: Stones Hill

When the decision was arrived at by the Gun Club, to the
disparagement of Texas, every one in America, where reading is
a universal acquirement, set to work to study the geography
of Florida. Never before had there been such a sale for works
like "Bertram's Travels in Florida," "Roman's Natural History of
East and West Florida," "William's Territory of Florida," and
"Cleland on the Cultivation of the Sugar-Cane in Florida."
It became necessary to issue fresh editions of these works.

Barbicane had something better to do than to read. He desired
to see things with his own eyes, and to mark the exact position
of the proposed gun. So, without a moment's loss of time, he
placed at the disposal of the Cambridge Observatory the funds
necessary for the construction of a telescope, and entered into
negotiations with the house of Breadwill and Co., of Albany, for
the construction of an aluminumprojectile of the required size.
He then quitted Baltimore, accompanied by J. T. Maston, Major
Elphinstone, and the manager of the Coldspring factory.

On the following day, the four fellow-travelers arrived at
New Orleans. There they immediately embarked on board the
Tampico, a despatch-boat belonging to the Federal navy, which
the government had placed at their disposal; and, getting up
steam, the banks of Louisiana speedily disappeared from sight.

The passage was not long. Two days after starting, the Tampico,
having made four hundred and eighty miles, came in sight of the
coast of Florida. On a nearer approach Barbicane found himself
in view of a low, flat country of somewhat barren aspect.
After coasting along a series of creeks abounding in lobsters
and oysters, the Tampico entered the bay of Espiritu Santo,
where she finally anchored in a small natural harbor, formed by
the embouchure of the River Hillisborough, at seven P.M., on
the 22d of October.

Our four passengers disembarked at once. "Gentlemen," said
Barbicane, "we have no time to lose; tomorrow we must obtain
horses, and proceed to reconnoiter the country."

Barbicane had scarcely set his foot on shore when three thousand
of the inhabitants of Tampa Town came forth to meet him, an
honor due to the president who had signalized their country by
his choice.

Declining, however, every kind of ovation, Barbicane ensconced
himself in a room of the Franklin Hotel.

On the morrow some of the small horses of the Spanish breed,
full of vigor and of fire, stood snorting under his windows;
but instead of four steeds, here were fifty, together with
their riders. Barbicane descended with his three fellow-
travelers; and much astonished were they all to find themselves
in the midst of such a cavalcade. He remarked that every
horseman carried a carbine slung across his shoulders and
pistols in his holsters.

On expressing his surprise at these preparations, he was
speedily enlightened by a young Floridan, who quietly said:

"Savages who scour the prairies. We thought it best, therefore,
to escort you on your road."

"Pooh!" cried J. T. Maston, mounting his steed.

"All right," said the Floridan; "but it is true enough, nevertheless."

"Gentlemen," answered Barbicane, "I thank you for your kind
attention; but it is time to be off."

It was five A.M. when Barbicane and his party, quitting Tampa Town,
made their way along the coast in the direction of Alifia Creek.
This little river falls into Hillisborough Bay twelve miles above
Tampa Town. Barbicane and his escort coasted along its right bank
to the eastward. Soon the waves of the bay disappeared behind a
bend of rising ground, and the Floridan "champagne" alone offered
itself to view.

Florida, discovered on Palm Sunday, in 1512, by Juan Ponce de
Leon, was originally named Pascha Florida. It little deserved
that designation, with its dry and parched coasts. But after
some few miles of tract the nature of the soil gradually changes
and the country shows itself worthy of the name. Cultivated plains
soon appear, where are united all the productions of the northern
and tropicalfloras, terminating in prairies abounding with
pineapples and yams, tobacco, rice, cotton-plants, and sugar-canes,
which extend beyond reach of sight, flinging their riches broadcast
with careless prodigality

.

Barbicane appeared highly pleased on observing the progressive
elevation of the land; and in answer to a question of J. T.
Maston, replied:

"My worthy friend, we cannot do better than sink our Columbiad
in these high grounds."

"To get nearer the moon, perhaps?" said the secretary of the Gun Club.

"Not exactly," replied Barbicane, smiling; "do you not see that
among these elevated plateaus we shall have a much easier work
of it? No struggles with the water-springs, which will save us
long expensive tubings; and we shall be working in daylight
instead of down a deep and narrow well. Our business, then, is
to open our trenches upon ground some hundreds of yards above
the level of the sea."

"You are right, sir," struck in Murchison, the engineer; "and, if I
mistake not, we shall ere long find a suitable spot for our purpose."

"I wish we were at the first stroke of the pickaxe," said the president.

"And I wish we were at the last," cried J. T. Maston.

About ten A.M. the little band had crossed a dozen miles.
To fertile plains succeeded a region of forests. There perfumes
of the most varied kinds mingled together in tropical profusion.
These almost impenetrable forests were composed of pomegranates,
orange-trees, citrons, figs, olives, apricots, bananas, huge vines,
whose blossoms and fruits rivaled each other in color and perfume.
Beneath the odorous shade of these magnificent trees fluttered and
warbled a little world of brilliantly plumaged birds.

J. T. Maston and the major could not repress their admiration on
finding themselves in the presence of the glorious beauties of
this wealth of nature. President Barbicane, however, less
sensitive to these wonders, was in haste to press forward;
the very luxuriance of the country was displeasing to him.
They hastened onward, therefore, and were compelled to ford
several rivers, not without danger, for they were infested
with huge alligators from fifteen to eighteen feet long.
Maston courageously menaced them with his steel hook, but he
only succeeded in frightening some pelicans and teal, while
tall flamingos stared stupidly at the party.

At length these denizens of the swamps disappeared in their
turn; smaller trees became thinly scattered among less dense
thickets-- a few isolated groups detached in the midst of
endless plains over which ranged herds of startled deer.

"At last," cried Barbicane, rising in his stirrups, "here we are
at the region of pines!"

"Yes! and of savages too," replied the major.

In fact, some Seminoles had just came in sight upon the horizon;
they rode violently backward and forward on their fleet horses,
brandishing their spears or discharging their guns with a dull report.
These hostile demonstrations, however, had no effect upon Barbicane
and his companions.

They were then occupying the center of a rocky plain, which the
sun scorched with its parching rays. This was formed by a
considerable elevation of the soil, which seemed to offer to the
members of the Gun Club all the conditions requisite for the
construction of their Columbiad.

"Halt!" said Barbicane, reining up. "Has this place any
local appellation?"

"It is called Stones Hill," replied one of the Floridans.

Barbicane, without saying a word, dismounted, seized his instruments,
and began to note his position with extreme exactness. The little
band, drawn up in the rear, watched his proceedings in profound silence.

At this moment the sun passed the meridian. Barbicane, after a
few moments, rapidly wrote down the result of his observations,
and said:

"This spot is situated eighteen hundred feet1 above the level of
the sea, in 27@ 7' N. lat. and 5@ 7' W. long. of the meridian
of Washington. It appears to me by its rocky and barren character
to offer all the conditions requisite for our experiment. On that
plain will be raised our magazines, workshops, furnaces, and
workmen's huts; and here, from this very spot," said he, stamping
his foot on the summit of Stones Hill, "hence shall our projectile
take its flight into the regions of the Solar World."

1 This is an uncharacteristic factual error on the part of Jules Verne as the highest elevation in Florida is Britton Hill at 345 feet, well short of the 1,800 that he claims for the fictional Stones Hill.